"Shane Tourtellotte - String of Pearls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tourtellotte Shane)

So he had passed the test. "I'm sure we will."

Bunwadde walked toward the door. "I'll have Tropid help you rearrange the room right away--unless
you'd like to join us in the conversation pool first."

"Thank you. I'll be down in a moment." He unzipped a pocket in one suitcase, and rummaged for his
swimsuit.

Marcus got his office in one of Bunwadde's buildings the next day. It was on the top floor, unprestigious
for Kevhtre but perfect for a human ego. Awaiting him there was a large inventory of Kevhtre items, and
a lone female Kevhtre assistant.

One of his jobs for Bunwadde was to judge the likely profitability of Kevhtre arts and crafts on Earth,
and the best markets for them. He found everything cataloged and cross-referenced. All he lacked was
some obvious place to begin.

He handed the manifest to his assistant, picked up the nearest lot, and had her read off the notes for it.
She stammered over it more than once. Was she afraid of him? Marcus could understand that from the
children, but not her. Maybe Bunwadde had cowed her into an exaggerated awe of the human coming to
work for him.

Handicrafts ran the gamut, but he saw the best prospects in the woodcarvings. The woods had colors
and textures unknown on Earth, and carvings of Kevhtre and native animals added another layer of the
exotic. They had serious broad-market appeal.

The jewelry might be another matter. The stones and metals were mostly things known on Earth; the
premium for Obrithi gold or diamond or sapphire would be limited. The artwork on the metals and
settings would help, but the only breakthroughs would be the biological stones, the local analogs of pearl
and amber. The rest would be a niche market, though a high-end one.

Artworks were tricky. Stocks here were heavy on the jagged abstracts he remembered from the walls of
his bedroom, though he found a set of electronic frames that produced kaleidoscopic fractal formations
that mesmerized him. He assumed there'd be some sub-market on Earth for everything here.

He took his observations home that evening, and gave Bunwadde an oral synopsis. His boss seemed
pleased, if tight-lipped, about it. "Might you want me to discuss all this with Pesh?" Marcus asked. His
briefing notes mentioned that she worked for his company in distribution and sales.

"Of course not. This isn't her work."

"But ... I had the impression--"

"She handles domestic sales, not off-planet ones." If he was going to say more, the sound of his
daughters running downstairs from their tutoring session with Tropid stopped him. Business was over.

Marcus got back to inventory the next day. His assistant, Eshlarh, was definitely less overawed, and even
a bit testy at times. Marcus minded very little. Work was mostly the same, and he had only a few new
angles to discuss with Bunwadde that evening.

"No furniture?" Bunwadde asked. He was soaking in his private water room. Marcus had taken off his